Come, come,
Sweet one,
Let us pick
Our raptures
From the grove
Of life.
Let us fill
Our cup
From the river
Of wine.
Come, come,
Sweet one.
Before autumn
Moves in
Our garden,
And snow
Covers the tops
Of mountains,
And the hairs
Of trees.
Come, come,
Sweet one,
Why should we
Wait for
Another day?
We know not
What tomorrow
May bring
For you
And me.
Come, come,
Sweet one,
Let us
Have fun.
Let us live
As we should,
Before life
Disappears
As quickly
As the clouds.